Pitiful
by Hyper V
Summary: "Pathetic, it was all so pathetic. He was pathetic . . . and pitiful no less." Darkness shrouded him for a long time, engulfing his entire being. But when one person comes into play, can Pride - the new Edward - handle it and the feelings he has been having? Or just throw them all away? Pride!Ed AU derived from a drabble by Moonlit Water Sunny River. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Written by: HV Twitchy **

**Edited by: Moonlit Water Sunny River**

**Summary: Pride was dragged into another world far from the one he has come to know in his short life. How will he deal with this?**

**Characters: Pride!Ed and Alfons Heiderich, Edward and Alphonse may come in later.**

**Warnings: May be slight Yaoi later, maybe not, if there is it will be mild.**

**A/N: This has come from a little drabble I read not long ago, and I liked the idea of the two characters meeting. To sum it up, Edward and Alphonse came to live on Earth and search for the uranium bomb with Noah, Alfons survived the bullet and got surgery, and Ed and Al left him to recover. Pride was made by someone, and while the person tried to send him back into the gate, he got spit right out the other side. So basically someone cared about Edward enough to try and bring him back.**

**I HAVE NOT PLAYED BLUEBIRD'S ILLUSION YET, SO SOME FACTS MIGHT BE OFF, DON'T BLAME ME, I ONLY READ THE SCRIPT.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Conqueror of Shamballa, or Bluebird's Illusion, nor any of the characters.**

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There was a flash of white light, blinding to any onlooker, and then silence filled the empty space of a white illumination. The only object in the void space was a door: big and haunting, holding so many secrets and so many possibilities and sometimes – most of the time, really – even _death_. But to a select few, it held a pitiful revival from the grave of the lost and never to be found. That life was filled with hatred toward the makers and to anyone who tried to stop the creations from obtaining their goal of hate. The Gate was something to be feared by all who knew about it and its contents, and the fear was used to its advantage.

But there stood Pride in all of his arrogance in front of this very door of "Truth."This very Gate that had taken the happiness of so many people in all of its existence. He wasn't afraid of this thing at all, far from it actually. He was very much calm in this area of nothingness, for he had been here before, from this life and his last from what he could tell. Plus, the Gate of Truth wouldn't kill him – couldn't kill him – because of what he was.

The least this pitiful Gate could do was make him become one with it and devour his mind and body, for he didn't even have a soul to begin with.

The wide doors with the future inside creaked and moaned on their hinges, opening to a vast space of eyes of multicolored eyes and ominous giggles of the creatures inside. Black hands reached out, pulling Pride's limp body in along with them - and he let them, for what good would it do to struggle? Those persistent creatures and their bloodthirsty Gate would only pull on him until he had no choice but to go along with their wishes. _Pitiful . . . creatures . . ._ And so with that last thought in his head, he was taken and his mind succumbed to the darkness, taking everything else along with it . . .

_**[PITIFUL]**_

They had left him for himself, gone without a trace with only him as a witness to their departure and their motives. He had been persistent in asking – begging, really – about coming, going up to them with every chance after his recovery of surgery of the injuries he took. Edward had also been persistent, but for a totally different reason: he had feared for Alfons's wellbeing. Having just recovered from surgery, he could see why. It had been the highest quality in the world and it had been paid for by the team he had worked with and by the only semblance of family he had left. It had worked in warding off his sickness, but in return he had been told to stay behind to recover, and it annoyed him.

The hardest thing came after Edward had returned: the presence of his double. The worst part was that his double had seemingly taken his place and gone with Edward instead of himself. Of course, Alfons had liked Edward, maybe a little more than he should. It was a crime, really, and even more so for someone as tradition as him.

So now here Alfons was, taking his lovely daily stroll around the neighborhood. It felt good to finally breathe fresh air again. It had felt strange for the first couple of weeks to take a big breath of air and not wheeze felt like he had been reborn, and for that he was grateful to all of the people who had pitched in and even cared enough to save him, even if it still meant that Edward had left him behind. _But_, that little voice in his head spoke,_ he did it to protect you and keep you from getting hurt. He's just trying to keep you safe._

A loud and clear noise split through the air. It was almost night time now, 10 o'clock by the looks of it, so that only meant that either someone was just out late at night, or it was some creep stalking the alleyways. Probably the latter. Curious, Alfons followed the sound. He knew it was wrong and would probably cause him harm in some way, butmaybe it was someone like Edward: a person far away from home with nowhere to stay and in need of help.

The alleyway where the noise had come from was dark, closing in on Alfons and almost suffocating him. The street lights didn't create a path for him at all, which made him worrisome and wary of what was shrouded in this blanket of darkness.

"Go . . . away." The voice made Alfons jump back a bit in surprise; he hadn't been expecting someone to speak to him.

When Alfons didn't respond, the voice spoke again. "I . . . said go . . . away." The person in the dark sounded like he was having speech problems, and the voice sounded familiar in a way, like Alfons had heard it before but couldn't pin it to any one person. "Are you . . . even listening . . . to me?"

"Uh, hello." _How pathetic, the person asks a simple question and tells you to go away and you reply with a simple hello?_ "Um, do you need help?"

"Why . . . would I . . . need help from . . . a human?" _Yep, definitely speech problems. _"I'll never . . . receive help . . . from you."

Alfons blinked at the unexpected comment, taken aback. This guy, whoever he was, definitely needed some mental help.

_Just like Edward. _

"Well, OK then," Alfons had answered, finally deciding on what to say. "If you want to be left alone then I'll leave."

Turning, he sped out of the alley, walking extra fast to get away. He stepped out into the light of the sidewalk, letting the person get a good view of his face. He hadn't meant to do it on purpose; it just so happened that he was now standing under a streetlight.

Biggest mistake of his life, Alfons would later reckon. The stranger seemed to jump by the sound he made by doing so and glared at his face with piercing gold eyes illuminated by the darkness surrounding him. A split second later, the stranger was out of the alley and standing before Alfons. Out of nowhere, a scythe appeared in his hands, and he swung it a few times, the look in his eyes akin to a death sentence. Alfons's eyes widened, taking in the appearance of this stranger. He looked just like . . . He shook his head, eyes still on the strange person, waiting frozen in fear for the final strike. However, instead of striking, the stranger hissed one word in a sharp, yet undeniably shocked tone. "_You . . ."_

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**Ok, I would like for you to review. Flames are taken and interpreted into helpful advice. Thanks a lot. **


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks for the review guys! I really appreciate it! Maybe I'll update every Friday, maybe not. Saturday/Sunday isn't good because I have to go cheer for the footballers (Go Clippers!). Wish me luck! I couldn't update Friday of this week because I was busy (and depressed. Man, doujin can really do that to a girl). But it will be sometime during the weekend if I don't update on Fridays. I almost have chapter 3 or 4 finished I think, I lost count. **_

_**Heh, with that, ENJOY! **_

_**~0~**_

That word echoed in his mind, making his head spin and him feel dizzy. This . . . person had just procured a weapon – and a very dangerous one at that – out of nowhere in a matter of milliseconds and it scared Alfons to think of it. He should have been running like crazy. Hell, he should have run before all of this started! _Damn conscious. And where is the world did he procure that weapon from? ___The stranger's voice was hollow, his eyes deep pools of sunshine that cut the darkness like a knife. The wind whipped through the person's long blond locks, making them shine in the moonlight and – if it was even possible – glow. It just wasn't natural. Alfons never in a million years thought he'd find someone so small, so terrifying-

And it clicked. The familiar eyes, the voice, the hair, _the stature_, it all clicked roughly in Alfons's mind because it – this _person _– resembled a little too much the boy Alfons had lived with for some time. Well, except this one had a real arm and leg, while the other just had metal machines as replacements. And the boy seemed to know him a little too much for Alfons's liking. But how, was the question? He had never seen _this _Edward at all in his life, and Edward wouldn't go around wielding weap- ok, well, maybe sometimes when he felt it was dangerous, but never full out _ax-like things _for heaven's sake. That thing was frigging _huge_, taller than him by at least a couple feet maybe.

Instinct told him to turn around and run if he wanted to live longer, but his heart – that really annoying part that told him to take in stray cats – told him to see what was bothering this poor person. Maybe Alfons could even find out why he resembled the long gone Edward so very much. It was just those thoughts that lead him to ask dumb things for the next 20 minutes, out of pure curiosity. He would probably hate himself after this, but he didn't mind. If this person was someone in need, he would help all he could.

_**[PITIFUL] **_

This person just stood there, this person that Pride had thought he knew, but was maybe just a short memory of a person he had passed on a mission. There was a feeling, nagging, in the back of his head that told him to _kill. Kill this person and get it over with before you regret the meeting. _But feelings weren't always right. The person he had trusted for so long had abandoned him and then tried to kill him off after he did one wrong thing. _Just one._ He had failed to kill someone and it had ended in his demise. But Pride didn't care; he would never care, because all he needed was himself to survive, and no one else.

But this person stepped forward before Pride had a chance to say anymore – not that he had wanted to talk at all – and had gone right up to him, standing at least a foot taller than Pride himself – something tugged at him though, making him want to explode at the height difference, but he was too proud of his height to do anything. Pride looked up at the person, probably looking a little lost with his expressionless face and void eyes.

"What's your name?"

The question shocked Pride internally, making him settle his scythe down on the ground just a bit. He wouldn't totally lower his guard, not yet at least. This nagging feeling was too far deep to have him just lower his guard at a simple question. Who did this person think he was? Some prissy giving out free information? Well, he wasn't! And it angered him – not that he would show it – that this person was so calm about having a scythe in front of him. Tch, humans these days.

"Can you please tell me your name?" the person asked again, more softly this time. "Please? I won't hurt you, I promise."

_But promises . . . deceived . . . people sometimes, so why . . . should I choose . . . you to make . . . an exception_?

But maybe, telling him your name wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, it was a name to be feared and a name to be proud of by its owner, right? So a name would be the only thing he would tell this boy, no more, no less.

" . . . Pride."

The boy had a funny face on for a moment before it softened up again. He looked like he wanted to say something else, and maybe he would. Maybe he'd say, "I know you!" and run away, or maybe he'd do something like Master did to him and try to kill him, or maybe he'd do something else. Pride learned over his short life to expect the unexpected and to take it in stride, go with the flow or whatever you call it. And that advice was taken fully at that moment when the boy came forth and said, "That's a pretty cool name. You must be very proud of it." And oh, he was. He was very much glad to have been given a name like this and not some stupid name like Steve or Antonio or whatnot. That would have put a dent in his self-esteem.

"Now . . . what is . . . your name?"

Pride felt obligated to ask this question, considering he had told this stranger his whole name and the stranger hadn't even hinted at his own. He didn't believe in that crap of Equivalent Exchange, but it felt right to have an answer and to know who this person thought he was. Names were important pieces of information all on their own. From a name, you could find out a lot about a person. So Pride felt the need to ask, and that was ok, right?

The person took a breath, nice and clear, before saying, "My name is Alfons Heiderich. It's good to meet you Pride."

_**[PITIFUL]**_

Alfons watched as the scythe disappeared and Pride – with his ever present blank expression – seemed to tense slightly at the words. Now felt like a time to tuck his tail and run like the frightened person he felt he was. So with a nod of his head at the blank Pride, he decided to make his exit. Or at least announce it and see the end results of this encounter with this boy named Pride.

"Well, I have to go to bed now, it's getting late and I need my rest for tomorrow. It was nice talking with you."

Alfons watched as Pride still stood there, standing as though nothing had happened. But that seemed ok, since Alfons needed that distraction to walk away unnoticed. And so he turned, walking away from Pride, sweating from the tense air even though it was cold out still. He didn't know how Pride could even stand around in that wacky outfit of his with mostly skin showing and no shoes. It was absurd and intriguing all at the same time.

He was almost home, his house in sight when pattering, soft and quiet steps, behind him made Alfons stop and turn around to face the person he had just encountered stop a few feet behind him. A few more steps for Alfons and a few more steps for Pride. It was a game to him, seeing how many steps he could take and if Pride could take the same amount. It worked and Pride was winning, but all games have to end. Alfons got to the front step of his house, digging the key out of his pocket and opening the door with a creak, leaving it open in case Pride had the intentions of coming in after him.

Alfons was up the stairs by the time Pride had made it in and shut the door behind him and when Alfons got to the living room, Pride was up the stairs, waiting at the door to his flat as if asking permission to come in. Alfons had nodded his head a bit, but when Pride didn't acknowledge it, he said, "You can come in if you wish, I'll get some tea on the stove," and moved to the kitchen so Pride could move to the living room. It had worked and Alfons had picked up on this game fast, which was good if he wanted to keep playing and not lose. He watched as Pride sat himself on the couch stiffly, getting himself as comfortable as he would allow considering he was in some stranger's house. Maybe some tea would settle things down a bit.

As Alfons turned on the stove and filled the pot with water, placing it on the stove. He watched on as Pride sat in his emotionless state and couldn't help sneaking glances at the tattoos on his body starting at his neck and ending at his feet. They seemed to go everywhere and, with a blush, Alfons wondered if they went under his clothing too, which by the looks of it, was a really short top, a sort of skirt thing, gloves of different sizes and socks that didn't cover the soles of his feet or his toes, which must have been cold. He was still amazed that Pride could even stand it without shivering.

The whistle of the kettle woke him up.

_**[PITIFUL]**_

Pride looked around at the area of which he presumed was the living room of this small house. The living quarters looked much smaller than what he was used to, but they seemed nice. His soulless eyes looked around at the bare walls and the coffee table which was stacked with papers that had drawings of different things on them. Maybe this was what this Alfons character did for a living. Pretty pathetic job, since it didn't involve causing people harm.

When the Heiderich person had introduced his first name, it had seemed familiar but sounded different. He supposed he had heard Master talk about some people named Alphonse and Edward back before Master had tried to kill him. He'd paid no mind to the names, but had stored them away for later use, because maybe they could be of some help to him in the future. He had been proven right when this Heiderich guy had announced himself. Why he followed the guy was lost on even himself. Out of curiosity he supposed, and Heiderich was feeding him and giving him free stuff, so he supposed it couldn't hurt.

Pretty soon after this though, Heiderich came out of what Pride concluded was the kitchen carrying two cups with steaming liquid in them, presumably the tea he had spoken of earlier, and handed Pride one. Pride had seen Master drink stuff similar to this sometimes, but was never allowed to have it, only given water and milk and sometimes juice if he wished. Hot drinks were forbidden in the manor to him. Pride took a giant sip resulting in his tongue burning and red sparks dancing to fix his burnt tongue and charred taste buds. He took another big sip and had the same reaction. He repeated this process a few more times, knowing Mr. Heiderich __was watching from the chair across from the couch in wonder as he drank his tea in 5 big gulps.

"I'm surprised it doesn't burn you," was Mr. Heiderich's comment. "I did that when I was little and it burnt my tongue. Of course, I was only 5 at the time." This lead to a pause with Mr. Heiderich's cup halfway between his mouth and the coffee table. "Say, how old are you?"

Pride though for a moment to think on the answer. He was born with the body of a 16 year-old, but counting age from his birth he'd say he was about . . .

"Four . . . years old."

This made Mr. Heiderich's eyes go wide and almost drop his tea. Surely that wasn't a surprise? Was it? He didn't really know because he never really had to tell someone else his age. He supposed it wasn't at all common to be 4 and look 16. Maybe, maybe not, he didn't know. But Pride couldn't really understand why Mr. Heiderich was so surprised about it.

_**~0~**_

_**REVIEW PLEASE! **_

_**~HV Twitchy! **_


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, sorry this almost took a month. Problems with editing and all, and I have a D in Social Studies, so that's a setback (I'm actually doing Social Studies homework right now, or am supposed to but am too lazy). Although, I still have time to get that grade up. I thank everyone who reviewed too! You guys are amazing and I love you all and thank you for supporting me whether I forced you to read this, it was recommended, or you read this on your own and reviewed, I still love you! I will say my thanks to those people at the bottom. **

**And chapter 4 will be up soon, I have it written out and will send it in a couple days to Moonlit Water Sunny River. I thank them for being my beta and putting up with my crappy work! **

**-0-**

_Did this guy just seriously say he was about 4 years old? That was impossible! He looked to be about 16!_ But he couldn't deny it, and he did have the speech problems of a four-year-old, really it was quite impossible. Well, it could be true if he was born on a leap year, which would make him actually 16.

"Were you born on a leap year?"

Pride looked up at him with his blank eyes, which were starting to creep Alfons out. They had no pupils, for heaven's sake! It was unorthodox. It looked like he had the eyes of a blind man, but considering Pride had followed him all the way home and seemed to recognize him, he doubted it. Pride was really something else, and he was curious to know more on this character.

"No." The single word made Alfons jump up in his seat. Really? "I was born . . . 4 years ago."

Well, at least it was an answer – albeit a confusing and absolutely impossible one. There had to be an alternate explanation, because like Edward said, "Everything can be explained." But wait, if Edward was from another universe where Alchemy evolved, then couldn't it be more likely that a person who looked 16 could be 4 without being born on a leap year? From what he had heard Edward say about Alchemy, it was possible. But it was possible due to it being a mistake people made while trying to-

"Are you one of the Seven Sins from the other world?"

Pride seemed to stiffen slightly, but his eyes remained expressionless and calm. Alfons had heard the organization name from Edward when he talked about the dangers from the other side of the gate. He had been told the process of developing these sins, for he had created one himself if Alfons had remembered correctly. They were born from the souls of the people who were long gone and to prove that they weren't human would kill off people from their past.

Of course, Alfons had thought these only to be stories until Al had shown up. But Edward was still alive, and yet here was a sin that looked so much like Edward yet so different. Edward had never mentioned anything about a sin being born from a living person (and imagine what the alternative is!). And this homunculus had created a scythe out of thin air. Wouldn't that be a form of alchemy? Didn't Edward once say there was a homunculus who could perform some semblance of Alchemy using Edward's lost arm and leg? It sounded impossible and Edward had said homunculi couldn't do Alchemy, if his memory served him correctly. So what was it about this sin that made him different from the others?

Alfons couldn't tell, and just learning about this person and finding out about his history was an adventure in and of itself.

[PITIFUL]

Mr. Heiderich seemed to be thinking at the moment. His eyes were on Pride, but it was as if he was looking through him, seeing something that no one else could. There was a familiar presence about him that made Pride want to get closer and to kill him all at the same time. It was annoying and it was eating him from the inside not to at least get up and stretch. He'd never sat down for so long. But if Pride had learned one thing in all of his existence, it was never to interrupt someone's thinking or else he would be punished severely. It had happened before once when Pride was first born and had interrupted Master for something so trivial. He still couldn't figure out this Mr. Heiderich person, so he might as well lay low for a while.

Mr. Heiderich looked to be done with his tea too, since it lay forgotten on the coffee table. The tea had been good; it was nice and hot and had tasted like an herbal remedy of sorts. Maybe he could get some more later if he asked nicely. There was a problem now though, and that was why Mr. Heiderich had gone completely still and vacant when he had mentioned his age. Sure, he looked like a 16 year-old, but he really was almost 4 and proud of it. He was more aware of himself than people gave him credit for. It didn't matter what age he was because others of his kind looked way younger than their actual ages. They had been born the same as he had been. Hadn't they been in the same position as he was now with telling people their age? He wasn't completely sure since he hadn't known these siblings, considering when he was born most of them were gone or dead. But that was no big deal; he never wanted to meet any of them anyways.

Mr. Heiderich looked to be done thinking, for now he was saying something about Seven Sins from another world. Another world? Did that mean he wasn't in Amestris anymore? Is that why nothing seemed familiar and the people talked in funny accents different from Amestrian accents? Well, there was much to learn about this place and about life. But for some reason, the mention of Seven Sins made him stiffen if only for a second and a half. What was it about that name that frightened him, even if he were to never admit it? Maybe the familiarity of it? So many questions and it was starting to hurt Pride's head. But he had to answer the one question not asked by himself.

"I am . . . Pride. I am a . . . homunculus . . . a sin. And you are . . . Mr. Heiderich."

It was a name game of sorts, and fun at that. He actually remembered Mr. Heiderich's name. But then again, he was good at remembering names, for they were important to remember for whatever reason.

[PITIFUL]

He laughed, and having it come out loud and clear instead of scratchy and hoarse was the best feeling in the world. Pride had called him Mr. Heiderich. It sounded funny coming from someone who looked like a person who was older than him when in reality Pride was only four, looking 16. Four for heaven's sake! Although the thought of him being a homunculus – a creature that had once tried to kill Edward – frightened him. But for some reason, deep in his heart, he knew any Edward Elric from the other world would never try to hurt him, for Edward cared for either Al too much to let them get hurt.

Pride sat patiently in his spot, not looking at all as tired as Alfons felt. Maybe it was an immortal thing or whatever, but he really needed his sleep. "Listen," he started, making Pride look up from Alfons's abandoned cup of tea to make eye contact. Maybe he liked tea. "I need to get to bed or I'll never heal. I just had surgery you know. So if you want you can sleep in Edward's old room. How does that sound?"

Pride's eyes looked at the door to Edward's room. How he knew where it was puzzled Alfons a little, but he let it slide. "Alright," Pride said, getting up off of the couch and making his way to the bedroom door. Before closing it, he said, "Thanks for . . . the tea." Alfons nodded as Pride closed the door to the bedroom, not even pausing to turn on a light. How Pride could see in the dark, he didn't know.

Alfons got up, making his way to the kitchen to put his half full cup of tea and Pride's empty cup of tea in the sink. It was amazing, really, how he just seemed to find golden eyed Edwards or how he was drawn to them. Although Pride looked like Edward, he seemed to have a totally different personality. Pride was calm and collected, listening to people without interrupting and answering questions when needed. Edward was brash and blunt, stating his opinion on life loud and clear. When it came down to it, Edward would never let someone tell him what to do or think. Pride even seemed to follow Alfons's rules for some reason, maybe because Alfons was the first to try and communicate with Pride like he was an equal. This seemed to be off to a good start, because now Pride seemed at least a little comfortable around Alfons. Well, at least comfortable enough not to have his scythe at the ready. That was at least a little calming. Maybe Pride could keep him company while in this lonely flat and not leave like his clone. Maybe this would be good for Alfons. And maybe this would be good for Pride too.

[PITIFUL]

Edward sat up in bed, a numb feeling taking over as he breathed heavily for a few minutes. He turned his head, watching as Alphonse slept peacefully in the bed beside his. It was calming to wake up and know Al was right beside him – alive, breathing, human.

Al stirred, sitting up in bed groggily and turning over to face Ed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Nii-san, did you have a nightmare again?" Edward was stiff as Al came over and sat on his bed, going over to hug his brother in a comforting gesture. "I'm right here, you know."

Edward's only reply was a nod of his head and to in turn wrap his arms around Al and squeeze, trying to reassure himself that Al was really there.

"I'm fine," was his answer. "I just . . . have this feeling like something isn't right." There was a pause as if Ed was deep in thought. He was met with silence from the little brother, Al's breathing steady as if he were sleeping.

After a while, Alphonse spoke. "It's probably instinct to worry when I'm around. It's nothing, Nii-san, you should go back to sleep, we're heading out tomorrow so you should get your rest." Alphonse loosened his grip around his brother slightly, waiting for Edward to do the same so he could make it back to his own bed, but Edward held on tightly, having no intentions of letting go so soon.

"Maybe you're right. But we never know. My feelings were always right when the homunculi were fighting us, so why can't they be right now in this world?" This was answered with a shrug and a short hum as Alphonse went limp in his arms. Probably on the verge of sleep, Edward noted. We did travel a long way today. With a grunt of effort, Edward was off the bed, carrying Alphonse to his own to get proper rest. For the moment Edward pushed the nagging feeling aside. When the problem came, they would face it head on, but something in the back of his head said to put his senses on high alert – just in case.

**-0-**

**Thank you to Brown Eyed Girl 42, Amphoterus, roymustang, and Call Me Tom for reviewing! Only three people read as far as I know and that's ok, because I can live with it! Thanks to you all, you get cake or cookies of your choice, I hope you enjoyed! **

**EVERYONE REVIEW! **


	4. Chapter 4

**I just wanna say thanks for your support on this fic I am making! All of you, I really love it! So enjoy this chapter! I hope to at least have the next one up by tonight or tomorrow if we don't loose power.**

**Speaking of that, we have a big storm coming that had the towns closing off schools and New York have people evacuate town and cities. The FRANKENSTORM! Sandy! Yeah, if you've heard of it, you know what I'm talking about. I live in Massachusetts right near the water, so the storm is gonna be tough for us and we could loose power for days, so I'm hoping to update things a lot in the time we still have power. Wish me luck and enjoy this fic! **

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It was all very new to him . . . and by new, he meant very freaky and otherworldly, which was exactly what it was. Here, standing in front of him, was a boy who looked almost exactly like him. It was uncanny, even if the boy had dark blond hair, an almost brown color, and his hair was long and thick. His eyes were also a different color, more silver than blue. The major difference was the age - while he was almost 18, his double was close to 14. It was creepy, to put it lightly. All his life, he had been told by everybody around him that he was a unique being that no one could copy, from his smile to the gentle air about him. But in front of him stood someone who proved that this was indisputably wrong.

"My name is Alphonse Elric, it's nice to meet you." A hand was extended and taken with precaution. The German was still weak from the recent surgery and an IV was still strapped to his arm. Alphonse had shaken it lightly with a grip that Alfons knew he had never had, at least that was one difference; Alphonse was stronger.

"Same." A cough followed, weak from grogginess. Edward had come forward to pat his back and Alfons had sighed, wanting to fall back to sleep at the contact. He wanted to hate Edward so much for making him this way, for making him feel things he shouldn't. Yet he couldn't hate the calm Edward showed rarely. Couldn't hate the crooked smile and scars and long blond locks and exotic eyes. He just couldn't hate Edward's being. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he had caught the illness of a lunatic from Edward himself.

As much as Alfons had tried to convince himself over the years that he was, indeed, straight, he couldn't help but go back to the fact that he might be . . . he might actually like men. He had a girlfriend once, sure, back when he was in school when he was first starting to open up to girls (people, maybe?). That had failed miserably when she dumped him after he had forgotten to show up at her house to take her on their first date. That relationship lasted less than a day. He never dated again. Lost interest in girls and gained it back in the form of science class and mathematics. He never questioned his sexuality . . . until Edward showed up years later.

Perfect, beautiful, flawless Edward with his mysterious vibe and wonderful personality and his smart-ass ways. To some people he was a cripple, to Heiderich he was a perfectly complicated puzzle with some missing pieces and jagged edges. He was like a math problem that Heiderich wanted - needed - to figure out. And now Pride was here, an almost spitting image of Edward. It was so hard to hold himself back from at least touching that perfect looking skin or tracing those intricate tattoos. But Pride wasn't Edward, and that was something Alfons had to face, that he wasn't ready for.

**_[PITIFUL]_**

Pride hadn't slept at all that night. It wasn't the bed that was the problem - more like it was his stupid mind wanting to make him do something unforgivable. Mr. Heiderich was kind enough to let him into his home and feed him and let him stay there, so he shouldn't take advantage of the poor human. Yet, something in his mind was urging him to get up and go to Mr. Heiderich again and see what was bothering him.

Of course, Pride knew something was bothering Mr. Heiderich. He could see it in the older man's eyes every time he looked at him. He probably thought Pride was someone else, someone very special. Maybe that was what the look of restraint in his eyes was for. He was restraining himself from doing something he knew Pride didn't like.

Right now, all Pride wanted was comfort from the only source available. He wouldn't admit it, but he was alone, scared, in a new place, in a new world. Moving from one town to another in the same area was no fuss. Moving from one country to another was a bit harder. But moving from one universe into the next was complicated and could make any stable man go mad. Pride himself was on the brink of insanity, yet he would never admit it. He would never admit anything really, being too stubborn to face reality.

He was used to facing things alone, whether it be his problems with his master, which he often had but never voiced, or the silent grieving over something or another that he wasn't quite sure about. He had no one to share his thoughts with, no one was around to teach him anything, and he was OK with that. He would learn on his own from his and other people's mistakes. He was just quick like that.

Often, he found himself wanting to read a book just for the sake of learning something, but had to restrain himself because his master said, "Libraries teach stuff not worthy of being learned. The real education came from experience." Pride could live with that, and so learn he did. Now and again, though, he found himself staring at Central's many libraries for no reason. Maybe it was because he didn't really consider what his master had said about learning the whole truth.

The first time he picked up a book was when he did his first "Library Staff" assassination. It was a good history book on things he could never learn from experience - on the ancient culture of Amestris and how it came to be what it was today. Days later, he started talking for the first time instead of using paper and pen or gestures. Speaking was hard though, considering his vocal cords were messed up during his creation and as a result he had trouble speaking. Master had said his speaking was annoying, but Pride figured him being silent was just as frustrating.

Mr. Heiderich, as Pride now knew, owned a variety of books ranging from history to astrophysics. This could be his time to learn more about this world than he knew about the other. It was a possibility.

**_[PITIFUL]_**

The room was dark, pitch black with no light to lead the way and no sound to guide him. It was like this most nights. His body shut down, his mind and heart the only working parts - his heart telling him one thing, his mind another.

Then, suddenly, there were voices. One was slow, like the person was trying to process things and the other loud and brash. Seldom was there a voice calm enough to be reassuring. Seldom was there a voice to soothe the aching heart of the slow talker. That was his heart's job; to detect what the emotionless voice of the slow talker was feeling. And that saddened him, because most of the time the slow talker was feeling lonely, yet he would never admit it. It was rare to have the slow talker's spirits be lifted.

That was until just a couple nights ago when things changed. His dreams were still black, although this time filled with the sounds of a city. Of honking car horns and screaming drunks from a nearby bar to the audible sounds of horses' hooves and rattling wheels of the carriages they pulled. These new dreams were serene, reminding him an awful lot of Central City. Or maybe it was Munich, Germany. Or maybe it was both. He couldn't tell the difference anymore, having spent so much time in both places. The only difference between them was that they were universes apart.

These dreams never seems to stop, and he had them frequently, five to seven times a week, starting from the time he was out like the light to the time said light woke him up. Some dreams were gruesome, the sounds of blood being spilled the only thing in his mind, and those nights he woke up screaming and panting with only his flatmate to console him. His friend would rub his back, saying "everything's going to be ok" and "don't worry because I'm right here." These statements were true, and he only wished he didn't take so much advantage of his flatmate, but that was a different story.

Then there was that one night where it was near quiet. The only sound was the watery breathing of the slow talker and the rubbing of skin together as they tried to warm up. And then a voice. But like in all of his dreams, he couldn't make it out and that was ok, because all that mattered was the tone this newcomer used. It was a familiar tone of voice, one that when he heard he always felt a twinge of guilt in his heart.

Then something happened. Something horrible. There was a sound, like a knife being unsheathed and then running, quick and light, and the startled gasp of the newcomer. Something in the slow talker's heart was telling him to _put the weapon down right this instant, you might regret it later._ But regret was the only thing he and the slow talker ever did. Regret and feel guilty, and now it seemed like they were one and the same.

**_[PITIFUL]_**

He often awoke in the middle of the night to harsh breathing and/or screaming of the person in the bed next to him. It was normal now, to wake up to his brother's heavy panting and labored breaths as he sat up in bed. Sometimes, if it was really bad, there would be talking in his sleep. Something about blood and the taking away of another life from the world. This scared Alphonse the most, these times. His brother was the greatest, most fearless person in his eyes and seeing him at his most vulnerable was like seeing a ghost from the past. And, if Edward were to ever admit it, it probably was. These ghosts came in the form of nightmares, dark and ominous, of bloodshed and corrupted Alchemy. He had them, he went through the same process, and always ended up in Edward's bed with his brother cooing him like he was five again.

These dreams, though, were not of the same type Edward had. These were usually of his adventures alone, without the protection of Edward. And sometimes, if he were to really be thinking, he would have dreams, horrifying and vivid, of Alfons Heiderich, his alter, sprawled on the floor, gasping for his last breath with a bullet lodged in his chest. Of Heiderich cold and dead on the cement floor of the factory, the Gate looming over him.

He was still at a loss at times when Nii-san would start talking about something and Al had no idea what he was talking about. In his mind, he registered that, "This must be a time when I was in the suit of armor and Nii-san was a State Alchemist." Alphonse would listen intently, feeling bad for not contributing, and when Edward finally stopped talking abruptly and looked at him strangely, Alphonse would sigh because the story was over and it was time to move on. These times were fewer and fewer as time passed by. The last time Edward had gone into a monologue about sometime Al didn't remember, he had been talking about the time he had fought a State Alchemist killer who broke his auto-mail. It only lasted until the part where the killer -Scar was his name - destroyed Al's armor before he stopped and began eating his breakfast again. Alphonse had been mad, because he really wanted to know what had happened.

Now, Edward was talking more and more about Heiderich, his double, than about the times Al had spent in the armor. What was it about this guy that made him so important to talk about?

"And then, get this," Edward was saying, "he spilled the fuel all over his shirt and he couldn't go home to get another one because the rocket was due in _2 hours_." It was a common thing for Edward to talk about at breakfast and dinner time now, and Alphonse, ever so polite, would sit and listen with a smile n his face. These . . . flying machines were just so advanced, even Alphonse - the smarty pants he was - couldn't figure them out. Never in his life had he seen such flying mechanisms before.

". . . and the, after all that work, we still didn't get any new sponsors . . ."

There he went, rattling off about sponsors and team members. The Nii-san he knew never used to work well with others, preferring it be either just him or that Al had to accompany him on projects. School projects were always done together instead of with other classmates, and even Winry was left out of the equation at times. So why now, of all times, did he choose to work with other people? Was he that desperate to get home? Well, like the saying goes, "Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Now Edward was talking about Heiderich while Al tried to tune him out. Had his journey on this side of the gate really changed him so much? Where had his big brother gone, because this Edward surely wasn't him.

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**Ok, so review and make me happy and give me good luck for the storm of Halloween! We might not be able to even celebrate! And I was gonna be Alfons. *hurumph* **


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so sorry this took me so long! I really am and I have no excuse whatsoever. I also want to thank the people who supported me through review and my beta who is super awesome and helps so much with this story. Also, I think I might have said this, and I might not have, but I have a plot that really looks awesome to me! I hope you enjoy it! The plot will start in about five chapters, maybe chapter ten I will get started. I'm excited because usually I don't have plots planned out until the last minute for the story. I got the plot from one song by the Vocaloid Hatsune Miku. The song gave me the whole plot, and if you wanna watch it, the song is ****_Koi Ha Sensou_****. Look it up, it's such a pretty song and whenever I hear it, it makes me think of this story and the plot. **

**Sorry for the long Author's Note, I will stop chatting now so you can read and PLEASE REVIEW! I only got two reviews last chapter. I love you all and want your feedback. **

**Enjoy!**

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The morning that followed the previous day's activities weren't exactly calm. Alfons had woken up to the sound of a door opening down the hall at 5 in the morning, and not remembering what had happened, he'd gotten suspicious. Waking up was a bit of a challenge, for he hadn't gotten any sleep when he was sick and was just now catching up. It was an ungodly hour, too early for any living being to be waking up - and who would be in his house?

Getting down the hall was another challenge, and Alfons swore to himself that this morning's awakening would be his exercise for the day - hell, maybe even the whole week! He had stumbled a couple times, almost tripping over the door frame, and sometimes, even his pajama bottoms which didn't exactly fit him snugly.

There was a sound coming from the kitchen now, like a chair scraping against wood, and the creak of said chair as someone sat down in it. By this time, Alfons was slowly beginning to wake up, finally realising that he had a house guest last night. And maybe tonight. And the night after that. And the night after that . . . And now Alfons was realizing how troubling this was going to be to have this houseguest here. The guy couldn't even pay half the rent for the flat, he couldn't buy his own food, he couldn't even work without showing that he looked just like-

Edward. He looked just like Edward. The thought crashed down upon him like a ton of bricks. Having one Edward around was bad enough, having a second one - who showed a lot more skin - was probably going to tip him off of the boat of Craziness. Even though Pride looked like Edward, Alfons had to keep reminding himself that he was not. Pride was quiet, keeping things to himself, and Edward was loud. Alfons sighed, this sure as hell wasn't going to be easy.

Pride looked up as he stumbled into the kitchen, his wide eyes following his every move like a hawk. It sent shivers down his spine, and he almost cringed away from him. That was another thing Alfons would have to get used to; Pride's eyes. Deep gold, expressionless. This time, though, the look on his face was one of curiosity. His face was tilted to the side a bit, staring at him as though expecting something good to happen. If Alfons had been in control of his thoughts, he would be telling himself not to think of Pride's expression as cute. However, he wasn't even remotely in control right now, so his mind wandered to other things and he had to shake his head to clear it. Breakfast, yes, think about breakfast and what to serve his new guest.

The wide eyes followed him as he made his way to the cupboards and opened them, looking in to see if there was anything actually edible left. "How about bread and jam for breakfast? Does that sound good?"

Pride only nodded his head in assent as Alfons got out the partially stale bread and the jam. Pride's eyes were starting to creep him out now, but he couldn't tell him to look away, that was rude and an indication that he knew Pride was watching him intently. He'd have to live with Close-Homunculus-Surveillance from now on.

**_[PITIFUL]_**

Pride had a feeling Mr. Heiderich knew he was watching him from the moment Mr. Heiderich had laid his calculating eyes on him. It was like he was trying to figure Pride out. But what was there to learn about the homunculus? He had told him all about himself from his age to what he was to his name, which were the things his Master had told him never to tell people.

Right now, Mr. Heiderich was making breakfast for the two of them, and then what? Then after breakfast what would they do? Play a game of cards and have some tea like Master always used to do with company? Or maybe Mr. Heiderich had something planned for him to do... Maybe a mission. A mission with plenty of bloodshed and screams of the dying? Because if that was the case, and all this human wanted was to use him and discard him away later, then Pride would flee. Maybe explore the world or something. Mr. Heiderich didn't seem like the type of person to do that, though. He didn't look like a man who enjoyed blood. He looked like a man who had seen plenty of it and probably never wanted to encounter it again. Mr. Heiderich, Pride now knew, was a nice man, from his kind eyes to his - slightly annoying, although he didn't know why - height.

He had learned, over his years of traveling and missions, that to know people you had to get deep inside their thoughts. Master said it was like, "putting yourself into their shoes." But why would you do that? Those shoes might be gross and tight fitting and maybe even sticky with past sweat. Kind of like what Mr. Heiderich's shoes looked like. So instead, Pride thought, he wouldn't put himself in someone else's gross shoes and just stick to seeing what they were like from afar. Master called this stalking.

Mr. Heiderich was tall and lean, not much muscle, and he was skinny too. His breathing was always hitched, like he wasn't used to taking giant breaths and he would sometimes choke over his words for some odd reason. His face was kind and his eyes a shining blue that Pride never really saw before. Sure, there were people in Amestris that had blue eyes, but not like this. There was something different about these eyes that just-

Pride stopped himself and looked away. Observe, not comment, observe. But what was this feeling inside him? What was this feeling that drew him to be closer to Mr. Heiderich? And another question to himself: why did he internally refuse to call Mr. Heiderich by his real name?

**_[PITIFUL]_**

Mornings were always slow going for Edward, but they were worth the time it took, because he could be by himself to remember his dreams. Dreams were always the highlight of the beginning of the day, where he would wake up, realize Alphonse was still sleeping, and head to the bathroom to get ready. When he was done preparing, he would have extra time to himself before Al got up to think and write down dreams.

The journal he kept them in was always hidden deep in the bowels of his suitcase or, if they stayed long enough, under the bed in a hotel where he could find it and it could be safe from snooping bastards. The journal had started the same time Alfons had gone into the hospital's intensive care, when Edward would start to have dreams of Al ending up just as Alfons did. If his brother had been in the same position, what would he do? Surely he wouldn't leave, but it was ok to leave Alfons, right? He had a nice place to stay and people to take care of him, but what was he going to do? He couldn't go back to work, for surely he could get sick again. He had Miss Gracia to take care of him, but she worked all day and had no time for small-talk.

So did he feel lonely? Scared? Afraid? Edward didn't know, and these unanswered questions spiked him to start having nightmares of Alfons instead of Al. It was a relief that the nightmares had stopped focusing on his little brother, but these new ones were twice as frightening as the ones before. Like that one where Alfons had died of his lung disease and Edward had brought him back as a Homunculus. Or the one where the surgery had gone wrong and he had died a horrible death of blood loss in the hospital. Some were scarier, like the time he had a dream that the Thule Society had turned him into a human machine and he declared war on the world.

Then there were the dreams that consisted of the slow talker and adventures through the city. These dreams filled his journal faster than he had time to get a new one. Loose pieces of paper were now hanging out of the leather-bound Alchemy journal he used to write equations in. Most dreams were bloody as hell, but others were quiet and calm, keeping him from waking up in the middle of the night and scaring Al again.

Now, his dreams consisted of both the slow talker and his friend. Edward didn't know what they had to do with it, but the dreams were a combination of frights and thrills, of secrets and romance -much to his chagrin. They were of action and jealousy and the dying of loved ones, sacrifices and a militant environment.

These were the dreams that scared him most of all. And so to never forget them, he wrote them down. But why would he want to remember something that frightened him so much that he didn't want to sleep?

**_[PITIFUL]_**

Alphonse wanted his memory back. It was a simple wish, and if things had turned out different, he might have gotten them back. Oh, no, he didn't blame his brother, who had worked so hard to restore his body. He didn't blame Alfons either, the man could barely lift his own weight, he was so weak. It was himself he had to blame. Al could only go by the stories he had gathered over the years hunting down his long-gone idiot brother. But from what he heard, if he hadn't gone into Lior at the time the transmutation was set and done, he wouldn't have become a Philosopher's Stone. The person to tell him this was none other than the great - retired - Flame Alchemist himself. A bit cocky, but still a reliable and nice source of information. He had spent great hours with the man, talking to and hearing stories from him.

Brother had never wanted to speak of that time, but he did so unconsciously. He would stop in the middle of sentences often and then move on to another topic, as if he hadn't said anything in the first place. This annoyed Al to no end, but he learned to live with it and make the best out of the information he was so unwillingly given. He would have to find another source.

He had caught Edward jotting down something in a notebook once, and if the furtive glances his brother was giving him was anything to go by, it was a clear sign to stay the hell away. But he didn't want to. That journal could be a very good, reliable way to find out more things on what had happened over the course of their journeys.

When his brother was thought to be dead all over Amestris, the things he represented were hidden away for safekeeping by Mustang himself, who thought it best if there wasn't a single trace to Edward left. Al had begged him to keep the red coat, and instead of putting it away, Mustang gave it to him. Alphonse didn't know why his brother's possessions were to be guarded. Later, Roy had explained. "Your brother is a wanted criminal, you know. People believe that he massacred an whole platoon of soldiers." Al had asked if he believed it, and the answer he got was no.

Along with the coat, Mustang had given him his brother's journal, filled with alchemy equations and formulas galore. It had been helpful in his training with his teacher, but he wondered at the time how his brother had gotten so advanced. Well, his brother was a genius. When he had gotten the time, he had told his brother about the journal. Edward didn't mind, if at all, he was glad that Al was able to crack his code.

So was this journal the same or was there an even bigger secret hidden in the binds of leather and paper his brother kept hidden from him? Alphonse would have to just find out for himself.

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**Hope you liked this! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS LIVING REVIEW! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok, so this is not edited, so there will be mistakes for sure. My beta quit on me for a while, so if any of you kind people would like to try and be my beta, I would greatly appreciate it!**

I'm so sorry this is late! To make it up, it's a long chapter, so have fun with that. I'm just starting chapter whatever-is-next now, so that will be up right after Christmas and right before my birthday (January 1st, suckers! I get to see fireworks on my birthday!) And my birthday will be celebrated for four days with no wifi, so no chapter from the 29th to the 1st. I'll to to get one out before the 29th and after the 25th though, so don't worry. And if I don't, you can all yell at me. I swear! Thanks to roymustang for shouting out about this story on Tumblr! Thanks so much! 

**Enjoy the (not edited) chapter! **

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Alfons finished cooking breakfast, handing over a plate of slightly burnt toast and leftover dinner to Pride and setting his own plate down himself before turning off the stove. "I know it isn't the best in the world, but I hope you enjoy it anyway." And Alfons began eating, starting with the sausage and moving over to take a bite out of his jam and toast. The jam wasn't all that sugary, he realized, just a bit watery, but it soothed over the slightly burnt bread and made it seem, if at all, half decent. And when he looked up, Pride seemed to be enjoying it. The look of pure curiosity was written on his face as he ate his breakfast.

Alfons laughed at the joy written on the homunculus's face as he ate. Or, at least, it seemed like joy. His eyes were the only indication of emotion the younger boy showed. His face remained vacant of expressions and, from the little time Alfons had been in his company, Pride didn't smile or frown all that often. But Pride's eyes - the brilliantly gold orbs of sun - were all the indication Alfons needed to know that, even though burnt, the breakfast fascinated him in ways Alfons would probably never know. And it was this child-like wonder on the sin's face that made Alfon's heart beat faster, if only slightly, for a split second.

With a smile, Alfons finished his breakfast and sat contentedly as Pride ate the rest of his with the same expression present in his eyes. "Hey," he finally spoke up, making the younger look up at him with a slightly startled expression replacing his preciously joyous one. "Maybe we could go for a walk in the park a little bit later. Maybe this afternoon? You know, just so you can take a peek at what the city looks like," he offered, rambling a bit. He didn't know why he was talking fast. Perhaps nerves? Or maybe Alfons just wanted an excuse to get Pride out of the house so the younger could see the world he was in now.

At the mentions of the outdoors, Pride looked up with a hopeful air to him, eyes almost pleading to go out. And, surprisingly enough, Alfons got a verbal answer from him. "I . . . would like that . . . very much." Alfons gave the homunculus an almost affectionate grin in return to the words spoken. He almost felt like doing a little happy dance if only for a short second. A reply was a positive reaction, Alfons thought. Maybe he could get more of those out of Pride while the homunculus was staying with him.

"I haven't . . . seen the daylight . . . since . . ." Here, Pride paused to shut his eyes tight and grip the table. A strange action when one thought, Alfons mused. Edward certainly didn't do this when he thought. Edward would make a face and furrow his brows slightly, and when it didn't come to him in the next few minutes, Edward got mad and went on a rampage of the flat trying to think of the thing he was going to say earlier. Got forbid Pride did that. Thankfully, the sin continued, ". . . maybe . . . since I was . . . one? I . . . forget." Alfons vaguely realised that Pride's speech had gotten at least somewhat better. Before, it was like every two words Pride said he would stop, take a breath, and then speak again, as if he was thinking of what to say. It was quite strange.

Alfons shook his head as he realised that he'd wondered off into his thoughts a little too long and Pride was intently staring at him with his creepily blank eyes. With a nod and a nervous laugh, Alfons rubbed the back of his neck as he replied in a joking way, saying, "Yeah, heh, well I'll be sure to get you out more often for walks and such." Then realised with a jolt that it sounded like Pride was his pet dog or something, which made him laugh. Edward had always referred to himself as a 'Dog of the Military.' He quickly tried to recover his previous statement. "I mean, like maybe take you to see a lake and walk around, or to one of the local universities to see what they look like. Or maybe just down the block to the local restaurant for dinner or lunch sometime, they make the best food." He was rambling again, he thought with another nervous laugh as Pride's eyes showed curiosity once again.

Alfons smiled widely as he got up to take his empty plate and utensils to the sink, Pride mimicking his movements as he followed not too far behind Alfons who proceeded to clean both empty plates. It was a wonderful feeling to finally have someone in his company again. Alfons just hoped his new roommate wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

**_[PITIFUL] _**

Pride watched closely as Mr. Heiderich cleaned the dished using a substance that made the water foam up with plenty of bubbles. He hadn't seen this happen when he had been with Master, who had let the countless maids and butlers do the work while his master sat off with a cup of tea to converse with a new client on the newest victim to be assassinated. Pride hated these times as he would always be at Master's side, standing like a soldier at attention and waiting for his cue to leave with orders to kill. He used to stand by Master's side, hands firmly clasped behind his back, legs spread slightly apart and expression blank. That is until the client was done speaking - usually it would be a man, but on occasions a woman who had been cheated on in the cruelest of ways by a husband or boyfriend - and Master would give him a slip of paper with a name and address on it with a picture pinned to the slip.

"Pride, dearest child," his master would say in that all too creepily sweet voice, "go hunt down this person," a gesture to the picture from Master, "and don't even think of coming back until the job is done." The creepy smile would never leave Master's face ever unless someone exceptionally important came to make a request, then a business face would be put on. This face was one with a mouth in a slight frown, lips pursed and eyes narrowed and void of any expression whatsoever, much like his own. Then, his master would send him away to another room so Master and the other person could talk in private about something or another. Pride would stay in the Grand Room, sitting on the plush couch to stare at Master's self portrait until company was done explaining all the details to Master. Usually these meetings ended up in a big order of many people in one room who would be killed via scythe by a mysterious person and found usually the next morning by the MPs.

Thinking of killing all those people almost put a frown on Pride's face, but he held it in once Mr. Heiderich looked his way and smiled at him again. Pride looked up at the taller man, his eyes practically radiating a smile as he looked away. His attention was caught not but five seconds later by the foamy water in the sink. It kind of reminded him of a skittish maid that had worked in his master's house for some time before promptly getting fired after breaking a brand new tea set imported all the way from the far side of Xing. The tea set had been one-of-a-kind and was irreplaceable, being made specifically for a certain purpose that Master never explained. The maid had dropped it while working in the kitchen, spilling all of the tea that was in the pot as the whole thing shattered. The only useful part of the set after that incident was an abandoned tea cup with a marginally large chip in it. When the set shattered, Master had come running in and seeing the maid on the ground near the crime scene, fired her in an instant.

It had been sad to see her go considering she was the only person in the mansion to talk to Pride directly and not push him off like some kind of monster. He remembered going up to her when he was only a year into his life while she was making tea, and not being able to reach the counter for he wasn't tall enough yet, had gotten a stool and stood upon it to watch boil the water and prepare the tea set for Master. She had been so wrapped up in her work that she hadn't noticed Pride watching her, and when she stopped her work to look his way, she had almost fallen. See, around that time Pride was new to the mansion and not quite everyone knew he even existed. He had stayed quietly in his room, not coming out unless called on by Master for a job. So when Master had yelled at him to get out of his room more, Pride had decided that the kitchen - which he had only seen while passing to go to his room many a times - would be the best place to interact with people.

"Well hello there dear," the maid had said once she regained her bearings and had steadied herself, placing a firm grasp on the counter. "And where did you come from?" Even though he was supposed to have the body of a teenager at the age of sixteen, he still wasn't finished recovering from his "birth," which meant he was still growing and was therefor short. He didn't really mind all that much, and when he grew he was sure that he was going to be as tall, if not taller than Master - who was fairly short in stature. Of how wrong he was, but it wasn't disappointing. No, not at all, because he was proud of his height!

Instead of answer the nice maid directly, Pride looked up at her with his expressionless eyes - which seemed to creep her out when she looked at them - and said, "I . . . came . . . from my . . . room." It was a vague answer, Pride would give himself that, but seriously, what else was he supposed to say? Master had made it clear that Pride shouldn't go around saying how he was made to people. No, Master hadn't made it clear, master had stressed it to the point that Pride used up a ton of his new regenerative ability. "I . . . came from . . . my room . . . upstairs . . ." The maid seemed to puzzle this even more as the water began to simmer and emit steam while bubbles rose to the surface.

"Well, honey, that's all nice and dandy," she said sweetly, a confused smile on her pretty and pale face as she got the water and poured it into the pot, "but I mean why are you in the mansion? I wasn't aware the master had any kids." She had then went back to putting the fresh tea herbs into the pot. Now that he looked back, Pride understood this confusion in her eyes. Master had later told him that no one knew he existed, for it was better off that way. If anyone outside the mansion knew he was a killer, then they would call the Military and have Master arrested and Pride taken to a laboratory to be tested on, seeing how he was more than just a perfect homunculus.

Later, when Pride was two years into his ageing, he found that the maid was practically a friend and at three, after the the maid was fired, he looked back and considered her a mother to him from her nice smile to sneaking him freshly baked cookies and pieces of leftover dinner for Master. He had enjoyed her ever present company and the gifts he received from her, and maybe that was why he held onto the chipped cup; as a reminder that she was with him always and of the nice things she had done for him. Looking at the present now, Pride saw the same kindness in Mr. Heiderich's eyes as he did in that clumsy Maid's, and maybe that was what made Pride trust Mr. Heiderich just a little bit more at that moment. Wherever that disoriented maid was, Pride wished her luck and a happy life.

But what Pride didn't know was that on the same day as when she was fired, the maid had been shot in the head and died while walking to her parents' house. Master had always said that anyone who knew of the mansion and the deathly secrets it held must be eliminated if they ever chose to go against the master's will.

**_[PITIFUL]_**

Alfons took one look at the wistful expression in Pride's eyes and knew he was reliving a good memory. Edward got that same expression on his face, except with a slight smile gracing his lips, and would go still and stare off into space. Alfons didn't know what Pride was thinking about, and he knew he shouldn't pry, so instead he set the cleaned dishes on a laid out towel and turned to his new roommate with a smile on his face. Pride still didn't look at him, so it wasn't a surprise that when Alfons said, "Ok, I think I'll get dressed and then we can head to the park," that Pride looked up with a start and nodded his head, then resumed staring off into space.

Alfons laughed at the reaction he could get out of the expressionless homunculus in front of him and headed off to his room to get ready and leave. When he came out in his usual attire, Pride was standing by the doorway, eagerness written in his body language. This was when a problem came up: the tattoos. They were pretty and intricate things and made up the whole of Pride's being, but with the amount of skin that he showed, it just wasn't appropriate. And that was only one problem. The others were much more complicated to hide. Things like the fact that he looked so much like Edward, his hair, his outfit, lack of shoes, etc. That and that Pride seemed immune to the cold.

With a nervous chuckle, Alfons stated these opinions out loud and Pride only shrugged. Alfons asked, "Why don't we find you something suitable to wear outside?" It was said simply enough and when Pride nodded assent, Alfons gestured for the younger to follow him into Alfons's bedroom. Pride sat patiently on the bed as Alfons riffle through his drawer, pulling out a spare pair of black pants and his only wool sweater that he never actually wore, presenting them to Pride who gave them a curious look before looking at his own clothes and then back at Alfons. "Well, go on and change," Alfons said with a calm smile, holding out the clothes once more for Pride to take. Pride took them and carefully made his way to the bathroom. Now Alfons wasn't so sure that was a good idea, considering Pride had looked at the clothes with curiosity and the engineer vaguely wondered whether or not he should go and help the homunculus put the clothes on for fear of Pride putting them on wrong.

**_[PITIFUL] _**

Pride came back out of the room with the pants practically falling down and the sweater three sizes too big for him. His hair was ruffle from trying to figure out how the sweater was to be put on and it took three tries before he pulled it on right. The pants sagged and, for purposes only known as decency, had kept on his tight fitting shorts. The sweater was of a fluffy white material that almost matched the softness of Master's cats and dogs and coats, and the sweater was soft to the touch. Pride had loved petting the cats and dogs, even if they were test subjects, and now that he was wearing the sweater, it was like he was back in the basement of the mansion petting the cats and dogs again.

Pride hopped into the hallway and down back into Mr. Heiderich's room to find the older boy sitting on the bed waiting for him to return. Pride held out his folded up skirt to Mr. Heiderich, who seemed startled out of his thinking state and was now looking from the skirt to the state of dress Pride was in. Mr. Heiderich had taken the piece of clothing Pride had offered and when his hand was free, gestured to the pants that were down to his knees. Mr. Heiderich made an O with his mouth and quickly got up off the bed to help Pride with his dilemma. The look on his face was a flustered one and his cheeks were a bright red. Pride would have been the same, and when he thought about the fact that he couldn't even put on a pair of pants, it made him want to explode in frustration.

Pride watched as Mr. Heiderich pulled up the pants around his knees and buttoned them up. They still sagged a little and were way too big for his stick thin figure, so Mr. Heiderich grabbed a long piece of rough fabric from one of his drawers and placed it through the loops on the various places around the waist band of the pants, securing the pants around his skinny waist. Pride took a mental note of this so he wouldn't have to allow Mr. Heiderich to do this the next time they went out.

Next came the shoes - also a bit too big for him - and a hair tie as Mr. Heiderich braided his hair - albeit a bit messily - and they were finally out the door and headed to the park. Pride was so excited to see what the outside looked like in the daytime, until one feminine voice called a name that was so eerily familiar it always sent shivers down Pride's spine and made him seethe in anger.

"Edward?"

* * *

**I'm also sorry Ed and Al weren't in this chapter, but I had so much to write about these two! So next chapter will be a surprise for all of you, and if you can guess what it's about, I'll give you a cookie! **

**And again, I NEED AN EDITOR! If any of you can be one for me, I will be so happy! Thanks for reading this still! And please review! **

**(I'll probably self edit for a while, so this chapter might be edited as well.)**


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